


Burned Blood Ties

by Rose_Rassmusen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Fire, Gore, Horror, Original Character Death(s), Orphans, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Rassmusen/pseuds/Rose_Rassmusen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An orphan (Asra) seeks to find out what happened to his family only knowing that his foster parents did not want him to discover the truth. A dark house, a box of photographs, and distant memories are all he has to guide him to the parents who disappeared and a sister that may still be alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Stages of Reliving Greif

**Author's Note:**

> This work will be 10,000+ words when finished and will contain 11 parts, or chapters. The chapters will be very short, and I'm a slow writer so they probably won't be very quick.

They say that death is something that follows a certain person. Once someone around you has died, it seems to follow you and the people around you are more likely to die as well. This phenomenon had been especially present in the case of Asra Michelson. Adopted by foster parents Bill and Jane Michelson, he had been raised as their own child. They had been slightly older than the typical parents when they adopted Asra, having been unable to have children of their own. They had worked and worked to give Asra a good childhood, and encouraged him at every turn to reach for the stars. He had moved out after his senior year and with their help had achieved financial independence after only a year on his own. Almost twenty years after being adopted, tragedy struck Asra’s life once again.  
In the wee hours of the morning, Asra was called down to the police station for questioning. He obeyed them, slightly confused, and when they broke the news to him that his parents had been in a fatal accident, he could hardly process what was happening. They had meant everything to him. They still did. The police around him were asking questions and Asra tried to answer them as best as he could, but he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that his parents were gone. Dead. He was numb, and so confused. How could this happen to him again? After he had spent the last twenty years getting to know them and accepting them as his parents. They had been there for him since his biological family had died when he was four, and they had kept him safe and well-loved since then. He couldn't process that they were actually dead. The police man called his name and he babbled out a response, not quite paying attention to what he was saying. They couldn't be dead.  
He excused himself and stumbled out of the police station to his car, disoriented and confused. He sat in the darkened car, face in his hands, weeping for his parents. When he had calmed down, he came back into the police station and answered the questions. He could finally see who he was talking to. A cruel-looking woman with her hair pulled back into a tight bun, obviously overcompensating for the fact that there was still much prejudice against women in the police force.   
“When was the last time you saw them?” She asked, a stern expression on her face. They thought it was murder. It was just too ridiculous not to be.   
“Uhh. Sunday. I was over watching the game with my dad.” Asra told them honestly, trying to remember when he went home. “I stayed for dinner and then left around... eight-ish.” He ran a hand through his short black hair, trying to remember if anything was odd about that night.   
“Did you hear from them after that?” Asra looked up at her and saw that she was tired. She was probably at the end of her shift and just wanted to go home but since there had been another strange car accident in the span of two weeks in a town barely large enough to fill the high-school football stadium, it seemed a bit fishy. Asra could empathize with her. He just wanted to go home and pretend that this never happened.  
“No. We were going to meet up after the First…” Now they wouldn’t. They never would. Asra could hardly believe that just two nights ago he'd kissed his mother on the cheek, hugged his father, and promised they would meet up soon. Now they were dead.   
The woman’s look softened. “Their lawyer wants to talk to you right now.” She indicated a man in a grey suit holding an equally grey briefcase, his face a picture of bland and featureless boredom. He greeted Asra with a firm handshake and invited him to his office. At this point it was light out and though Asra hadn't checked the time in a while, he knew it was close to eight in the morning.  
“It’s a real shame what happened to your parents.” The Lawyer We'll get everything sorted out right quick. It will help with the grieving process” He spoke as if he knew what that meant. Asra followed him anyway, breaking apart and following the grey man in the grey car to the grey office building to talk about grey things and get through all the white papers that his adoptive parents had left for him.   
They had left him everything. There was no one else they would have given it to. With the exception of a glass doll that went to Asra's cousin, every asset his parents owned went to him. The house, their money, even their car, which Asra had handed over to be impounded, since he had no intentions of paying to fix the totaled Chevrolet. Everything they had was now his. He should have been at least a little grateful for it, but all he could think of was the times they would never have now that they were gone. No more football Sundays or family get-togethers, no more apple pie baking in the oven while the tv hummed in the background. Asra could almost scream it hurt so much. Why them? Why did they have to die?   
The Lawyer was staring at Asra confusedly, watching the young man’s face grow red with restrained grief. “Mr. Michelson, there is one other thing.” Looking up, all the life and energy had drained from Asra’s face. “They left you a folder here with papers in it.” Asra didn’t see why it would need its own announcement.  
“I’ll just take it and put it with everything else if you don’t mind.” The young man snarked weakly. He just wanted to get home. Home would fix everything. If he could just curl up with his grief maybe it would go away. The lawyer handed him the folder and Asra took it, standing. “Is that all?” He asked. Maybe he would stop by the liquor store before heading home.   
“Yes, that’s all.” The grey man stood to shake Asra’s hand but he was already heading for the door. He just had to get out. Away from everyone. He couldn't take losing his family again. Not again. He was so young when his biological parents died that he didn't remember them at all, but his adoptive parents filled the void perfectly. He couldn't hope for anything better than them, ever. Now he wouldn't even have them. There was no one to catch him when he fell, no one to give him the advice his adoptive grandparents had given his parents. His life wasn't coming to an end, but it certainly felt like it.   
Asra drove home quickly, paying only minimal attention to the concept of “Speed Limits” and “Traffic Laws”. When he finally got back home he still had the folder in his hand, tossing it down onto the ottoman and leaving it to gather dust while he slept. It had been a long and stressful night and this only made it worse. Much worse. He wasn't ready for his parents to leave him, and though he knew that he never would be, it hurt him more than he could say to think that they would never be there to help him through adulthood.


	2. Picking Up the Trail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asra follows an address on his adoption papers to a small town in central oregon. Will he find the answers he's looking for there?

It had been a hard couple days for Asra. He had been trying to come to grips with the death of his parents and he had finally seemed to come to a place where he could continue with life without them. He glanced over at the folder every so often, wondering why his parents would have left him a _folder_. Like some pieces of paper were so important. There was a story in the news that morning about “a mysterious car crash”. There was the theory that someone tampered with the car because their brake line was clearly cut. Being the sole beneficiary, Asra was also a suspect, but he knew he had nothing to worry about. They would find the person that had done that to his parents.

He still wondered what was in the folder though. He glanced over while watching tv, eating dinner, cleaning the house, until he couldn’t take it anymore and he pulled the elastic band around to free it, sitting on the couch. Slowly opening it as if he would scare the papers off, Asra pulled out the paper in front.

* * *

 

                _**Dear Asra,**_

_**If you are reading this, something has happened to your father and I. I know you are well aware of the fact you are adopted, and though you declined learning about your biological parents, I feel an obligation to tell you everything. Inside this folder is everything your father and I know about where you came from. It’s not much, but I feel that knowing about your early life may allow you to see whatever tragedy that has befallen Bill and I in another light.**_

_**I will love you forever, my precious Moon.**_

_**Love, Mom**_

* * *

 

                He stared, wide-eyed, at the letter, tears in his eyes. He wiped them away before they could fall. The letter was short and sweet and to the point. Just like his mother. The words were almost meaningless on their own but Asra could hear his mother speaking them as clear as day. He had never wanted to learn about his “real” parents. Biology only meant so much, and as far as Asra was concerned, Bill and Jane were his real parents. It seemed disrespectful to undermine their place in his life.

                However, like any child who was adopted, Asra was curious. Why would they give him up? Were they still alive? If they weren’t, how did they die? So many questions left unanswered for his whole life. When he had turned eighteen, his adoptive parents had offered to help him find his birth parents, but at the time he had turned them down. He was just entering adulthood, and digging up old skeletons wouldn’t do anyone any good. Now though, he seemingly had his life together. He had a steady job working for a contracting company, he had a healthy social life, and while he didn’t have anyone he was interested in for a romantic partner, he certainly had prospects.

                After much internal debate, Asra lifted the letter out of the folder and took a look at the papers underneath. The first was a birth certificate with his birth name and date listed. There were two black streaks across the page where his birth parent’s names had been blacked out. “Asra Nejem…” he whispered. “What?”

                There were two more papers in the folder, stapled together. His adoption papers. “Asra Michelson.” He said out loud. “God, why have I never seen this before?” He knew the answer, though. He’d been the one to refuse it. Now though, he was interested. There weren’t any signatures from his birth parents, but the adoption agency had an address in the footer of the papers. “Sisters?” He pushed the papers aside and grabbed his laptop. He couldn’t find any agency with the name on the papers, but maybe they had changed ownership or something? Sisters was only a couple hours away… the thought was almost too crazy for Asra to even give it any thought but again. This was the only way he could find out where he came from. Maybe his parents were still alive and he could find them. Work was at a bit of a lull during the winter months... maybe he could take a few vacation days? Before he could even solidify a plan he was emailing his boss, Mark, and explaining that he would be taking a couple days off. There was nothing else holding him in Stayton.

                It was a bad idea to skip town while he was still number one suspect but it had to be done. He couldn’t just sit in his apartment and mope. Work gave a good distraction, but not good enough. Asra needed to get away. He gathered up the adoption papers and typed the address of the adoption agency into his phone before shutting everything up for the night and making a silent decision to leave in the morning and find a motel once he got to Sisters.

* * *

 

The next morning, Asra packed his car with a week’s worth of clothes, made a withdraw from his bank of as much as they would let him take out at one time, and hit the road. He stopped once for food before going over the mountains, sitting in nearly complete silence as he mentally kicked himself for not bringing cd’s. By the time he came close to Sisters it was nearly dinner time and he was certain he had pissed off every single driver from Lyons to Camp Sherman with his careful driving through the mountains. He drove around Sisters until he found a motel that looked okay and asked for a room for three nights. The man behind the counter didn’t ask him any questions, though he stared at Asra the whole time he was there. The date on the adoption paperwork indicated that he was given to the Michelson family when he was five, so there must have been someone in town that had known his parents. Maybe if they were still alive he could find them –find out why they had given him up.

He had thought on the way over about where he might be able to find some information and the most likely bet was the library. He hurried over, knowing that they would be closing soon. Once inside the library he noted its newer feel. He’d always thought of libraries as something old, eternal, but judging by the look of the place there was no way that this thing had been around when he was young. A plaque on the wall confirmed it. Built in 2005. Asra sighed out loud but comforted himself. So what if the building was new. There had to be someone who was alive when he had been adopted.

He approached the front desk and prepared himself to ask the strangest question he’d ever asked a librarian. “Do you know where I can find someone who would know about an adoption agency from 1995?”

The pretty brunette librarian turned around and looked at him in confusion.

“or somewhere around 1995…”

She furrowed her brow. “That’s awfully specific.. why do you want to know?”

Asra chuckled in his nervousness. “Well, it’s complicated…”

The librarian thought for a moment. “You could ask Sibyl… She’s pretty old, and she always knows the town gossip. Here, let me give you her number, she’s not in today.”

Asra sighed in relief. “Thank you so much.”

The librarian smiled at Asra and gave him the note paper. “Just tell her Tessa sent you.”  
  
---


End file.
